Lots of war - Little bit of peace

As the smoke settles on the battleground, a weary general steps forward to survey the damages. It isn't fair, these battles we must fight. They are not designed by us. They are never profitable. They are never brief. There are no winners. As the curtain closes on this scene, the setting sun highlights the general's beautiful orders, decorations, and medals. Like luminescent candy drops, they glisten in the waning sun. "What have I done to deserve these honors," the general wonders, "when so many others before me have lost this fight?"

I am the general, for I have won this war waged on my behalf almost a year ago....for now, at least. I have many decorations. My scars also glisten under their thick layer of Mederma! I fought many battles - not all of them turned out as I had hoped. I choose not to wear my medals on most days....my husband says that I have ribbon greed and there is no reason for me to flaunt all my pretty achievements at once! Here is a brief recap, in case you weren't aware, of the war of my life.

I lost my daughter, but not my sanity. Not yet, at least! The color red has a whole new meaning for me as I continue to fight the war of heart disease/defects that she, sadly, was not able to win. I ride into battle on her behalf everyday, and, like the high school football hero who peaked too soon, I relive her best moments for her over and over again in my mind.

I lost my breast, but not my life. I look at myself in the mirror, fresh from the shower, and, finally, I don't wince at my reflection quite as badly as before. Yet, like a 5 year old's attempt to carve a turkey, I will never be able to straighten out my jagged lines. The color pink was always a favorite of mine. Now it symbolizes the struggle between my mind and body as I learn to live without benefit of femininity in this womanly-less woman's body.

After cancer, there are still skirmishes on the outskirts of this town of mine. Hijackers lay in wait for me everywhere I go, waging bloody coups on what is left of me. Lymphedema is my Left Bank, of sorts. It will never go away - I just have to attempt to tame it, appease it, bargain with it. The ribbon for this disorder is lavender. I have never liked lavender. Now I know why.

Faith, hope and love, right? We all know which was the greatest of these. I have Chynna, Cancer, and Lymphedema. And, let me assure you, Chynna was the greatest of these three. I would gladly, had I been given the choice, have thrown the cancer fight in exchange for her life. I had my chance to make my mark, after all, and she did not. I would not have blinked, nor flinched, nor hesitated for a single moment. I would've ridden straight into that battle without any weapons if it meant that Chynna would be sitting here writing a little story about how she misses her Mommy. It just didn't happen that way, though, did it? I think I need one more ribbon - the ribbon for a lost child. What color should I choose for this one? Maybe Tiffany blue. Only beautiful things come from a Tiffany blue box.